What's Said is Said
by Hannahrochelle
Summary: Jareth loves Sarah but thinks he's forgotten. Until one night, he hears Sarah say his name in her sleep. This is my first story and I hope you like it! I'll try to post regularly and I welcome any feedback. Enjoy.


He lifted the strands of dark hair that covered her face, the silky tresses shifting through his gloved hands like sand, and he watched as her eyes fluttered in her sleep. He lightly touched his leather-clad fingertips to her forehead, smoothing her furrowed brow. He held his breath, as she shifted to her right side, and sighed silently, with relief, as she grew still again. He sat down in the chair by her bedside, his eyes lingering on her form, as he listened to her steady breathing. His gaze softened as he thought back to his brief time with her in the Labyrinth— how she had surprised him with her youthful indignation, her romantic notions, and naivety! How spirited the young Sarah Williams had been! Now, as he watched her lying in the darkness of her bedroom, he realized how scared she must have also been. Her bravado was surely a façade; she had taken his challenge with much at stake. He had once admired her childish obstinacy but now he admired her courage in spite of the terror he had tried to instill in her. He had tried hard to make Sarah forget. He had used his powers to make the challenge seem impossible, but she never gave up. And somehow, between the scheming and the threats, he had fallen for her. He smirked when he remembered what a brat she had been at the beginning but his smile faded as he remembered what a force she had proven herself to be by the end.

He mused about her reaction if she awoke to him in her bedroom. He imagined the fear and surprise in her wide green eyes, the anger that would twist into her expression, the palpable tension in the room. He held no illusions of her own regard towards him. He supposed she hated him. It was better than considering the alternative—that she had forgotten him.

He suspected, and rather dreaded, that she had. She had hidden the book away when she had returned home and she hadn't so much as glanced at that drawer in her dresser since. Sometimes he watched her, in his crystals, enduring the monotony of mortal life and searched for any sign of her clandestine desires. He waited for her expression to turn wistful or for a familiar dreamy look to drift across her beautiful features. She was magic- his Sarah- and she belonged in a different world. He held his breath for the moment she would summon him again, in a fit of rage or desire. But she was a closed book. She had good-naturedly resumed her role as daughter and older sister. For three years, she had carried on with her life, comforted, no doubt, by the normality of her world. Without goblins or fairy tales, she had forgotten the magic of dreams and become just a girl once more. No— not just a girl. An extraordinary individual disguised as ordinary girl, with all the trappings of an ordinary life. He wanted to save her from that life, be her hero. But, she made him the villain and bad guys never get the girl. He knew she didn't need him. After all, she had power of her own. She had defeated the mighty Goblin King as a mortal girl of fifteen. Maybe he didn't deserve her.

He sighed once more, longing to know what she dreamed about. He wondered if he had ever slipped into her dreams.

Sarah never cursed his name. She never seemed angry about the Labyrinth or the way he had treated her. She had grown up and moved on. He wished he could hear her outraged voice telling him it was "unfair" again. As far as he could tell, she never thought of him. Instead he existed only in her realm of fantasy, removed to the lost recesses of her heart, where her imagination and memories formed forbidden wishes and forgotten promises. He was no longer a part of her waking life. He had been locked inside a drawer and left to collect dust.

He sank further into the chair, considering the rise and fall of her side. Even as he told himself she had outgrown him, reasoned that she no longer thought of him, hope bloomed every night he watched her sleep. For only in her deepest slumber did she dare remember the magic of the Labyrinth. Only in the darkness did she return to him.

Some part of the girl still longed for the adventure, the magical ambiance of the Labyrinth. He could hear it in her voice, in the words she mumbled into her pillow as she slept late at night. Some nights he heard the names of her companions, her loyal friends, other times he could hear her muttering "…goblins…goblins…" It seemed as if still, even after three years had passed, she dreamed every night of her journey in the Labyrinth. He always listened carefully, a hushed expectancy in the air as he waited for her to say the right word, his name spilling delicately from her parted lips.

But it never came and tonight, like every night, it seemed was no exception.

For three years, he had watched her and his love had only grown. He never appeared before her; he never asked her for anything. He knew his role and he knew that Sarah wasn't his. The little girl had disappeared and the young woman that took her place would not be won over by spells and crystal dreams. He had nothing but goblins and bad impressions. Sarah Williams was lost to him. She had navigated her escape from him as successfully as she had the Labyrinth. And while he mourned a love he couldn't have, he took pleasure in the sleepless nights he spent by her side. It had taken him a while to accept the feelings he had for the mortal and even longer to accept her disregard.

Dawn was breaking and he crossed the room to the window, preparing to leave for his kingdom. He placed his hands on the pane, his leg bent over the sill, when he heard her restless shifting once again. Then, her voice, thick with sleep, swept over him as she murmured a single phrase.

He gripped the window pane, his knuckles white under his black gloves. He turned towards the bed, afraid that he had drifted off by her side, and her voice was nothing more than a dream. He gazed at the girl with wonder, his foot still perched on the edge of the window sill. Her hair once again spilled into her face, but he could see her lips as she muttered "Goblin King".

It was his title, not his true name, but its effect on him was the same. She had dreamed of him. Those words on her lips were everything he had waited for. To him, those words were like a mirage in a desert, a dangerous kind of hope. She said the words once more in her sleep, angrily now, as she turned back over.

He felt a long dormant pain, and longing, flood his being, as she resumed her fitful slumber. He stepped towards her, almost involuntarily, but then gained his composure. He carefully brushed the blonde hair from his face and changed direction, striding back to the window. His eyes, one blue and one green, were shut tight against the flood of emotion, the confusion he felt. He was powerful, arrogant, and devious. He was the ruler of a kingdom and a powerful fae. But the mortal girl behind him had once made him feel powerless, doubtful, and unworthy. In six words she had made his world fall down and defeated his Labyrinth, but he could not let her go. He needed her power; the determination and fire that helped her succeed. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the young woman and for her to need him in return. She certainly had power over him. But in the light of day, dreams lost their power and Jareth took off from Sarah's window, an owl flying in the muted light of morning.


End file.
